


it's everything it once was

by bitseaa



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Cuddling, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, kenma plays animal crossing at 3 am, that is literally it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:53:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27237607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitseaa/pseuds/bitseaa
Summary: There seemed to be something significant in the night—weighty. A wider breadth of emotion, the promise of something swelling in his chest. He didn’t really know how to describe it outside of that, but he liked it, sought nothing more than to keep its quiet company.━━━Kenma likes to be awake late. Kuroo keeps him company.
Relationships: Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou
Comments: 6
Kudos: 85





	it's everything it once was

**Author's Note:**

> just a small thing i wrote while listening to 3 am from animal crossing city folk cause i was feeling anxious. hope you enjoy :)

Animal crossing at 3 AM. To some perhaps it seemed excessive, obsessive. To him it felt like a reprieve.

Kenma sat, feet tucked under his knees, knees tucked under a quilted blanket, blanket tucked under his chin, controller held in hand. The moon grazed the back of the room feather light, like the skating of fingertips over skin. On screen, the stars shone, grainy and pixelated on the surface of the old television, yet Kuroo could never quite convince him to get rid of it. It cast the game in shades a flat screen could never quite portray.

There seemed to be something significant in the night—weighty. A wider breadth of emotion, the promise of _something_ swelling in his chest. He didn’t really know how to describe it outside of that, but he liked it, sought nothing more than to keep its quiet company.

Carefully, softly, quietly, he tucked the blanket further under his chin, thumbs curling around the joysticks ever so slowly so as not to break the sense of reverie that seemed suspended in the air. The quiet sound of the marimba and shaker playing over the tinny speakers of the CRT wove through the air. It felt hazy, almost dream-like.

It was times like these he truly felt at peace. No one to mind but the shadows dancing across his face where they cast from the glow of the TV. The screen, bulky and filled with static as it was, felt like home. Low poly-renders, an old game, bad graphics, _good feelings._ He sucked in a measured breath, dizzied by the sudden rush of nostalgia.

Another rhythm joined his, even and familiar. He glanced to the side, not fighting the smile that tugged at his mouth at the sight of messy hair strewn across a pale forehead. Kuroo lay—though fast asleep by now—on the other end of the couch, knees tucked inwards to give Kenma his space. One more breath passed before he was sighing, leaning over to pull the other’s feet into his lap. No one to tease him here. The glockenspiel hit four light notes, the feeling ( _fondness_ , he could say with confidence now) brushing against the confines of his rib cage swelled.

Kuroo’s eyelashes gave a subtle flutter; Kenma’s heart the same, perhaps more urgent in its quick staccato. An intake of breath, eyes opening. Kenma watched on, transfixed, as the other rubbed tiredly at his eyes.

“...Kenma? ...time is it…?” The quiet rasp did nothing to disrupt the peaceful atmosphere. Soft, it intermingled with the notes from the TV, leaving Kenma breathless and _feeling._ Undoubtedly, indisputably _fond._

“Three,” he hummed in response, voice laced with the gentle feeling threatening to spill over inside him. Kuroo’s eyes drifted back shut, pulled by some invisible force, bringing his brows into a subtle scrunch alongside them.

“‘S’late,” Kuroo slurred, mind still muddled with sleep.

“Yeah,” he breathed. Fingers, longer and more calloused than his own, slid along the length of his forearm, tightening at the bend of his elbow. He felt a weak tug, heard an exhausted sigh.

“C’mere,” the other grumbled, pulling more insistently now. Kenma leaned forward, placing his controller on the ground with a soft _thud._ Wordlessly, he let himself be pulled until he was lying, tucked between Kuroo’s chest and the cushions. Their legs tangled, breath mingling. The feeling crept up Kenma’s throat.

“Okay,” he breathed to no one but the moon, Kuroo’s breaths already settled into a steady rise and fall once more. The moon said nothing back, just kept watch as it caressed the back of the couch.

Again, the glockenspiel sounded from the TV’s speakers. A secret, indecipherable and just for him. He fell asleep to the sound of breathing and quiet notes, content.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!!


End file.
